


Curse

by Octavia_Dragon_Dark



Series: Curse [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Danger, F/F, F/M, Fights, Fire, Government Agencies, Magic, Murder Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 04:17:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4550118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Octavia_Dragon_Dark/pseuds/Octavia_Dragon_Dark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything seemed to be going right for once in Rosaline’s life. She had a boyfriend who actually cared, her grades were above average and her brother had finally found a job. But something was wrong. Rosaline could feel it and nothing she did could contain that feeling. And she was right.<br/>A brutal murder unleashes something in Rosaline. Something that can never be contained. Everything is uncertain, especially when the government finds out. Held captive in a special and extremely secret facility Rosaline must rapidly come to grips with her new life if she is to survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I walk down the empty street enjoying the warm, orange sunlight pooling around me. I feel content, my right hand clasped tightly around Sam’s. Well almost content. Something’s not right. Even surrounded by such joy and beauty the feeling is there. The bliss is almost too perfect, like the calm before a storm. Like the rise before the fall. It’s a strange sense of anticipation coiled in my stomach. I suppress these thoughts. I am happy. What could happen anyway? Nothing. That’s right nothing will happen. I push my fear into a faraway corner of my mind and ignore the ominous feeling.

  
Instead I look up at my boyfriend’s face. He has the most exquisite features which I enjoy studying much to his amusement. I love his eyes. They’re intense green flames surrounded by many long and light eyelashes in a way that could be described as feminine. All his features are very intricate and delicate. Sam also has light brown hair, its pink tips fall gently around his ears. He had them dyed two weeks ago he wanted to annoy his mum (she had said something unsavoury about me and he wanted revenge). We had bought a pack of pale pink dye from the local supermarket before experimenting with it back at my house. My brother had helped and over the following three hours we had all tried to alter the colour of various areas of our hair with varied results. Thinking about those hours causes the corners of my mouth to curve upwards slightly. Sam caught my expression.

  
“You’re staring at me again.”

  
“I know.” I retorted dreamily.

  
“Mm-hum, and what were you smiling about?” he asked with a teasing grin.

  
“Oh you know just remembering the hair dying experience.” I said laughing and flicking a strand of his pink from his forehead.

  
“That was fun. Shall we try electric blue next time my mum says something stupid to you?”

  
“She’ll have a fit. Electric blue!”

  
“What? I want to look like I’m being electrocuted when I walk along. I’ll spike my hair up too!”

  
“You would n...” I suddenly tailed off as all humour fled from my expression. It felt like a fire had exploded in my head. Pain blossomed all over my brain and suddenly I wasn’t seeing Sam standing before me looking concerned or the grey pavement rapidly approaching my face.

  
I saw my home. My parents curled up on the sofa in front of the old TV. My brother on the floor in front of them. They all looked relaxed and happy. They didn’t seem to notice me. I was just about to speak. Then there was a crash. The sound of smashing glass. Of running feet. I saw the panicked faces of my family. The uncertainty in my mother’s grey eyes. The identical confusion in my brother and father’s brown ones. Then four men arrived. I heard screams. Saw the guns and knives. I saw my brother’s head explode. The first man had unloaded his gun into James’ brain. I saw it splatter over my parents. I saw the fury in mum’s eyes. Saw her launch herself at the guard. Too late. I saw the second assailant stab my mother. I saw the blood cover her back. It poured out of her mouth. Out of her nose. She went slack and fell to the floor in moments. I saw my father already attacking the third man. The fourth hit him with a bat. He fell. I saw them all kick him. Then I saw the flames. One of the group had brought a fire gun. My father screamed as the fire consumed him. The man shot again. Dad went silent. I was screaming. I could not move. My family lay dead before my eyes. Their murderers quickly escaping out of the window.

  
My vision went dark again. Suddenly I became aware of a noise. A piercing, terrified scream. Upon opening my eyes I realised it was me. Noticing the pavement and my rather worried boyfriend I stopped. I was lying on the hard ground shaking and sobbing.

  
“What happened? Rosaline? Are you alright?” Sam gushed clearly panicked. I did not answer. What had happened? It had been like a waking nightmare. The fear in my stomach was worse. It had reared its ugly head and was writhing about. Visions of what I had just seen flashed through my mind. I stumbled to my feet. Not answering Sam’s concerned voice. I started running. Unsteadily at first but with gaining urgency. One street away from my house I heard a crash. Utter panic seized me as the sounds of my family screaming reached my ears for the second time. I was too late. Too late!

  
I ran on faster. I had to get there. I heard gunshots. More screams. I reached the front door and tumbled through. I stumbled through the living room door. It was the scene I had seen moments ago. My brother dead. I saw a man stab my mother in the back. Rage flared up inside me burning through my veins. Erasing thought. With a violent fury I launched myself at the knife man. He just killed my mum. My ever loving, ever compassionate mum. White hot anger clouded everything. I was vaguely aware of my body punching the man. In mere moments he stopped resisting. My mind barely processed that before jumping on the man about to burn my father. He exclaimed in surprise. Then he screamed. I barely noticed. The anger was still burning through me. It hurt so bad. I had to save dad. Had to avenge my mum and James. Their confused faces flashed in my mind. Suddenly the man before me was burning. I leaped off him. I turned in time to see one of the remaining men shoot my father in the head and run off. I gave chase.  
They killed dad. They killed mum. They killed James. One certainty was all I held on to. I would kill them. Looking back they shot wild shots at me. I dogged easily.

Unconsciously my right hand rose up and a blast of white fire shot out from my palm. It engulfed the two men in an instant. Their screams rose for a second before cutting off abruptly.


	2. Chapter 2

What had I done? The past few minutes, if it had been a few minutes, was a distant, confusing haze of panic and anger. Two smouldering bodies lay a few feet from me. They didn’t look human. They didn’t look much like anything just burned meat. It was revolting. With a sudden wave the stench hit me. It was horrible. I felt light headed and stumbled over, retching.

  
When my guts were entirely emptied onto the tarmac I began trying to make sense of my memories. They overwhelmed me in an instant. Anger. Pain. Anguish. My mother’s face. My brother’s brains blown all over the old living room. My father shot. All dead. An awful lurch of agonising grief consumed me. I was an orphan.  
“NO! No, no!” I wailed feeling my cries burn my vocal chords. Then my mind was assaulted by more jumbled memories. Ones which confused me to the extreme. The four men were dead. I had killed them. Surprisingly I felt no remorse. A surge of pure hate rose through me, they deserved to die. My mind reeled from itself. When did I become a killer? How did I become a killer? Two men had burned to death in front of me! How? I knew I killed them. But I could not comprehend any of it. But in that moment, I didn’t care. The grief consumed me. It burned through me freezing my bones. Ice splintering through my heart. How could they be dead? My mum was so constant. Always there when I or James needed her. Her hugs and earthy scent. How could she be gone? They just couldn’t be...

  
I barley remember running back to the house. But I found myself in the centre of the living room. The gore covering the once so familiar room where I had spent so many hours every day. I felt the nausea all over again. My eyes swam and my head ached. I gagged. A foul tasting liquid filled my mouth.  
The next immeasurable amount of time passed in a confused blur of disbelief and crying. I don’t know what I did. I don’t know how long I was there. But somehow I stumbled out back to the street in front of my house. It was surreal. It looked so normal, covering the foreign horror inside. I became suddenly aware that it was dark and I was shaking. I felt completely unsure of myself.

  
I found myself curled up in a ball rocking violently in my front garden just inside the gate. That was how Sam discovered me, close to midnight. I did not make a sound or acknowledge his existence. I was vaguely aware of his presence in some distant corner of my disorientated mind. Nothing seemed to matter. I could not make sense of anything. Some part of me registered voices, a hand on my back but none of it went through. I had retreated inside myself. The icy grief reigned within me. I could not feel anything through its shield. I welcomed the numbness. It was easier than the pain. I felt nothing but cold. I realised that there were more feet treading round my hunched form. More voices. I saw it all with unseeing eyes. None of it connected with my mind. I felt hollow, there was nothing except the ice cold freezing all emotions. I became suddenly aware of strong arms grasping my shoulders. I watched the entire thing as if I was an observer who cared nothing for anyone involved .They forced me to stop rocking before injecting something into my neck. Then the world faded away into black nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

The murky darkness that fills my body slowly ebbs away. My eyes flicker open and I squint in the harsh light. When they have adjusted enough to vaguely distinguish what I was seeing I notice I am staring at, not my own red walls but a very unfamiliar sight; I see a dark, shear metal wall a few feet from my face. Sluggishly my mind registers what this means. I am not in my room. Distantly I recognize that I should be afraid. But I am too tired to care much.

  
As more of the fog clears I begin to wonder where I actually am. I glance round me slowly. My head is filled with cement and weighs 5 billion tons. My vision is strange and everything is so confounding. From what my distorted vision detects I appear to be lying on my back in a metal box. Not a box, a very small room, with metal walls. There is an agonisingly bright lightbulb protruding from one of the walls. I squint at the walls looking for something else. Then I notice a strange blob on the wall with the white light emitting from it burning my eyes. As my eyes become more accustomed to the brightness I see the blob is actually a handle. That means there’s a door. Yes! I can see the outline. A way out!

  
I try to stand. Then I make a very unpleasant discovery. I cannot move more than a few inches. A flutter of panic flaps round my heart clearing my mind a bit. I look down at myself, quite a feat as my head is still heavy and my shoulders stuck to the ground. I am met with an alarming sight. I am secured to the floor by a large number of dark brown leather straps, naked.

  
“What the hell?” I croak. The sound of my voice is repulsive. It sounds, I sound broken like an old woman. I test my bonds again, they don’t budge but the straps securing my wrists rub painfully. I can’t believe I didn’t notice them. Now I can feel all of them pressing into my skin. I also can’t believe I’m naked. I feel very vulnerable like this. I’m immobile and exposed and why the hell am I here?

  
Questions flood my sleepy mind. Where am I? Why am I naked? Why am I tied to the floor of a goddamn creepy metal room? What the hell happened to me? As I puzzle over these I get the growing sense that the answers are just out of reach. I should know them. I think some part of me does know but I cannot remember. There are too many unknowns.  
Suddenly I think of my mother, she’ll be so worried, I’m actually missing, am I kidnapped? Then an image appears in my head. A memory I recoil from. A memory I don’t want to keep but is branded into my brain.

  
And I remember. Not all at once, but flashes invade my head. Blood. Screaming. Gunshots. James, staring in shock. James’ blood splattered everywhere. The agonized wail. The shock. My mum a knife sticking out from her back. The life leave her eyes. Her limp body. The pool of blood. My father burning. My father, blood pouring from his chest. Death. All dead.

  
“NO! NO! No, no, no, no, n, n-o.” I cry my chant dissolving into sobs. These muddled memories rampage through my mind splitting me open and devouring my sanity.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this! Sorry if it's crap or I swear a lot throughout the upcoming chapters. I hope you like it! If you have any improvements please comment. Or if you just want to comment please feel free!


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